


Proper Company

by suyari



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What kind of person doesn't enjoy holidays?  A Thanksgiving tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Company

"What kind of person doesn't enjoy holidays?" Dorian asked. If John didn't know better, he'd say his partner's voice sounded fairly incredulous. Hell. Who was he kidding? It was definitely an incredulous intonation.

"This kind of person," he grumbled, focusing on the roadway in front of him.

Dorian shifted in his seat until he was facing him. "You can't be serious. What's not to enjoy about holidays?"

"There are _plenty_ of things not to enjoy about holidays. Awkward dinner conversation, pretending to give a shit about people you only see once, maybe twice a year, never fully achieving the vast and wild array of dreams your parents had the moment they first brought you home..."

"You're saying family celebrations are uncomfortable."

"They're incredibly uncomfortable."

Dorian went quiet for a moment, in thought. John turned a corner and glanced at him from the corner of his eye. It should scare him just how much he'd come to trust and respect someone whose insides were programmed. But, Dorian continually surprised him. He didn't _act_ like a synthetic. Yes, occasionally he did things that were admittedly non-human, but they always reminded John of an alien, or someone out of time. Dorian would make a comment, or process information, or do something decidedly android, like stick his finger in goo and tell John what it was made of. But, even on those occasions, he always countered the inhuman moment with something so decidedly human, it balanced out. He'd make a smart ass comment, crack a joke, or look at someone with emotions in his eyes. Those were still fairly alarming to John, in what they evoked in response. He knew intellectually, that Dorian's eyes were glass and fiber with lenses that focused better than magnifiers and recording and transmission equipment. The color could be changed on a whim, and yet, the visual responses Dorian had to things was...very human. Emotional processor or not, John wasn't entirely certain Dorian wasn't completely aware - no matter what John claimed - of exactly what he claimed. And John felt somewhat guilty every time his actions caused hurt to flash in them.

"Perhaps it's the company."

"Huh?" he replied, brilliantly.

"You claim that holidays are uncomfortable events with a substantial margin for awkwardness."

"They are."

"Then perhaps you haven't been celebrating them in proper company."

He chanced a look at him, a frown settled firmly on his face. "You celebrate holidays with your family. It's how it works. Awkward, uncomfortable, or otherwise."

"Turn left here."

He did, without hesitation or doubt. And realized that almost instantly. Still, he couldn't claim he didn't trust Dorian. It just disturbed him slightly that he apparently trusted him so _much_.

"And a right up here."

"Where are we going? Did someone trip a silent alarm somewhere?" he asked, again heeding the directions.

"We are going to the supermarket."

"Why? Have a sudden hankering for noodles?"

"You know I don't eat."

"Which is exactly why I'm confused about our current destination. I eat and I'm not hungry." He squinted at him. "You're not scanning me inappropriately again, are you? We talked about this, Dorian."

"I can assure you, I'm not." He turned, face contorting in that way of his that was half smart ass, half exasperated. "And there is no such thing as inappropriate scanning, John. Not when my duty as your partner is to ensure-"

"Why are we going to the supermarket, Dorian?" John replied, exasperated himself now.

"It is the fourth Thursday of November."

"And?"

"It's Thanksgiving Day." He leaned forward after a moment when John didn't reply. "You do know what-"

"I know what Thanksgiving is, Dorian!"

His partner retreated back into his seat.

"Why are we going to the supermarket on Thanksgiving?"

"To purchase necessities."

"For?"

"Thanksgiving dinner, of course," Dorian replied, giving him another look. This one read, 'I am astounded you don't know this, oh great and wise human.' It was a look he threw John's way often - he could be particularly difficult about some things. Thankfully, Dorian was patient with him.

He pulled into a parking spot, turned the car off and shifted in his seat to face his partner. "Okay, I'll bite. _Why_ are we at a supermarket buying groceries for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"So that we can celebrate properly," Dorian replied, opening his car door and stepping out.

John hurried to follow. "Dorian. We're not doing this."

"Oh yes we are."

"I don't...I can't even cook. And you don't eat. What's the point?"

"The point," his partner responded, looping his arm and hauling him toward the storefront. John didn't struggle - not that he could do much good if Dorian ever decided to use his freaky synthetic strength against him - following obligingly, more perplexed than anything. "Is to better your experience with societal norms before you become a dangerous anti-social hermit."

John blinked at him. "You're bettering my holiday company?"

"Yes."

The corner of the human's mouth quirked slightly. "All right," he said, straightening into his personal lope. "But _you're_ cooking."

"Considering my intentions are to _better_ your experiences, I thought that'd be obvious."


End file.
